


Ride in the Rain

by kinkandquiet



Category: Original Work
Genre: Desperation, Kink, M/M, Omorashi, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-10
Updated: 2016-04-10
Packaged: 2018-06-01 13:03:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6520861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kinkandquiet/pseuds/kinkandquiet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cole gets caught in the rain. Poor Cole.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ride in the Rain

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written January, 2011.

Cole hated the rain.

He hated the sun when it rose too early in the morning. He hated the clouds when Daren, a classmate who unendingly dedicated himself to Cole's misery, taunted him for wearing sunglasses when the sun wasn't out. But most of all Cole hated the rain because it was wet, cold, and he was stuck on the side of the road under a constant downpour with nowhere to go. 

Cole kicked the tire of his upended motorcycle and decided he hated that too.

Though uninjured, Cole wasn't inclined to feel thankful. His entire body ached from the fall and he'd been stranded on the side of the road for long enough that his bladder was aching too. It had been the need for the bathroom that had caused Cole to drive too fast on the rain slicked old road in the first place.

The few extra miles per hour certainly hadn't ended up getting him to the bathroom faster. It felt like hours he'd been waiting on the side of the road, the signals from his bladder growing increasingly urgent. He'd been there long enough to see the sunset, and now it was getting dark. 

Cole kicked the motorcycle's tire one last time before leaning with arms crossed against the tall oak tree that was doing little to shield him from the pouring rain. He immediately shifted his weight, bending forward and crossing his legs at the ankle.

Cole was soaked from the waist down, his jeans drenched. The leather motorcycle jacket was proof from the rain but with his helmet abandoned beside the motorcycle his dark hair was soaked down and wet against his face. He moved to wipe water from his eyes but his leather riding gloves were wet as well.

"Fuck," Cole declared, sending the occasional car on the road a glare.

No one was stopping to help and Cole was beginning to think no one was going to. A motorcycle off the side of the road was hard enough to see without the rain obscuring windshields. As it was, Cole had been waiting under the heavy rain for what felt like forever and every moment of it was too long. He had no way of knowing how long it had truly been since his cell phone and the clock on it had been crushed in the crash, effectively cutting off his means of calling for help. 

Cole groaned, dropping his gloved hand to his crotch and squeezing. He was soaked, freezing, and he had to piss. The rain wasn't helping any of it.

Pressing his thighs together, Cole pushed off the tree and took a hesitant step forward in the mud. Tracks from his boots were clear in the mud below as he'd paced back and forth, kicked the ground in frustration, and once knelt to his knees and hunched over against the downpour of rain and the pounding of his bladder.

With a crack of thunder the sheets of water from the sky increased tenfold, Cole shuddering along with it. A wave of desperation hit him as the thunder roared and the rain hissed. Cole gasped, the noise swallowed up in the storm. He looked around with a desperate glint in his green eyes. But of course there was only Cole, the road, and the mud and brush of the forest behind him.

Rain water was collecting and running in rivulets off the long leaves of trees, pattering in the mud below. The sound and sight was too much. 

Cole grimaced. "Screw it."

He grabbed his fly and moved stiffly to relieve himself in the bushes.

Cole shifted his hips back and forth while he fumbled for his zipper, hissing in his frustration. His jeans were soaked and shrunken around his hips and his gloved hands were clumsy against his fly. Finally he managed to capture the metal zipper, hitching his hips forward in readiness as he tugged it down.

But just as he did there was a sudden yellow light and the startling grating of tires on gravel. Cole tugged his zipper up without relieving himself as he turned to the car pulling up on the side of the road.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck... Great timing." Cole gave his crotch a final squeeze, his bladder protesting as he reemerged from the brush.

The car's lights were shining in his eyes and giving Cole a headache as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. The headache was abruptly splitting as he heard a familiar, much hated voice.

"Damn, I almost didn't see you there. Hello? Is everyone okay?" Daren's voice came from the car. The bang of his door opening made Cole jump and suck his stomach in sharply. 

Daren came from the car frowning, which was rare from him. Daren always had a stupid smirk on his face when he was taunting Cole, harassing him, and generally being Cole's least favorite person ever. 

He was the last person on earth Cole wanted to be here right now.

The tall blonde stopped suddenly when he saw Cole, momentarily shocked into silence. Even under the rain Daren looked aggravatingly comfortable. His short blonde hair was slicked back, not a piece of it out of place even as it got wet. Cole, for his part, was completely soaked through with rain, his hair in his eyes, his cheeks a treacherous red from almost being discovered pissing outside, and his bladder full and uncomfortable in his stomach. 

Daren smirked. "Well shit. If it isn't my favorite... you know, I can't even finish that thought. You're not my favorite anything."

And Cole thought this day couldn't get any worse.

"I shouldn't be surprised," Daren went on, looking positively gleeful. "You're the only person I know who would ride a motorcycle in this kind of weather on this damn road. I think to myself: is he crazy or is he just stupid? But I can't decide. Maybe it's both."

While Daren was enjoying his monologue Cole was getting rapidly more miserable. The rainfall that had been hitting him for hours suddenly felt colder and harsher than before. His body ached from the crash. The need to piss and the lack of anywhere to go, or privacy to go in, was frustrating. His bladder was taut under his wet jeans and it sent an urgent spasm straight up his spine as Daren talked endlessly.

Cole groaned, rubbing a gloved hand over his face.

Daren tirade ended abruptly at the noise. When Cole raised his eyes Daren was frowning again.

"You hurt?" Daren asked after an awkward pause.

"No." Not enough to admit to it, anyway. 

Injury was the least of Cole's problems. He shifted his weight again, folding his arms over his stomach and leaning slightly forward, unable to find any position that quelled the intense need to pee.

Daren nodded, concern wiped from his face in that one short, partially factual, word. "Great, great. Glad I don't have to feel guilty telling you how brainless you are then."

Cole highly doubted Daren wouldn't have happily insulted him if he'd been lying on the side of the road dying.

"It's what you get for riding that motorcycle in the rain, hot shot," Daren said. He smiled cockily, then made a hand motion to the parked car behind him. Cole would have figured it was to make the point of how much better Daren's car was than a motorcycle, but instead he said, "Get in."

"What?"

"What what?" Daren asked, adopting a mocking tone. "Get in."

Cole took a step back, gaze darting back and forth. 

Daren raised both eyebrows. "You need a ride, don't you? It's raining. You know, rain? The wet stuff falling from the sky? That's rain. Most people don't hang out under it."

Cole hated rain. He bounced on his heels, eyeing Daren's car suspiciously. He didn't trust Daren. It wasn't like him to be nice enough to give Cole a ride. It was entirely possible that Daren drive him miles out of town and abandon him even farther from help, laughing at his stupid joke the whole time. If he got in the car Cole was at Daren's mercy. It was the last thing he wanted, even if it meant getting somewhere with a bathroom and a heater.

"I'll walk," Cole decided, taking another step away from the blonde.

But Daren was already moving back towards his car. He opened the passenger door.

"Don't be stupid," Daren said. "You can't walk; it's too damn far. Just get in already."

Cole jiggled his leg. "My motorcycle..." he offered in weak protest.

"You can call someone to pick it up later. Come on, Cole. I'm getting wet."

The open cabin of Daren's car looked inviting, warm and dry. Cole didn't want to get into it. He didn't want to go anywhere with Daren. But he was freezing and wet and hurt and he really needed a bathroom. And Daren didn't look like he was going to let Cole dart off on his own anymore, even though Cole would have gladly pissed in the bushes by now. 

Finally Cole chose the path of least resistance and walked to the car in three long strides, slamming the door shut behind him. 

Cole's clothes were soaked and difficult to adjust. Sitting relieved the ache in his legs but he gasped sharply at the instant pressure it put over his bladder. It felt like a balloon in his lower stomach, too full and under too much pressure. He twisted and adjusted the waistband of his damp jeans over his tender abdomen just before Daren came around to the other side of the car. 

Cole was screwed.

The need to piss had moved past uncomfortable and into desperation when he'd finally decided to let go behind a tree but had never gotten the chance. His body had been prepared for relief and now it was far out of his reach. He winced as Daren pumped the gas and lurched onto the road with a screech. 

"Definitely crazy," Daren was saying, a smirk on his face indicating how much he was enjoying himself. "In this weather? With that bike? On this road? You're missing a few fucking crayons in your Crayola box, sweetheart. I've always known it."

Cole tuned out the lecture, all his attention focused on his bladder. The water outside pattered against the car's metal top, rolling down the windows in sheets. Cole squeezed his eyes shut against the tantalizing scenery, pressing a hand over his forehead. 

Liquid was pounding in his bladder like the rain against the shell of the car. He'd had to piss even before he'd crashed his bike and now the need was pulsing low in his stomach. Cole tensed the muscles of his lean abs, pressing his thighs tightly together at a wave of desperation despite his efforts to hold still and pretend he wasn't here, now, in Daren's car, dying to piss. 

Daren slapped him on the knee. Cole gasped and jerked, bending forward.

"Hey. I said what's your fucking problem?"

Cole clenched his hand into a fist and tensed his abdomen. "No problem," he said, keeping his tone low and inexpressive.

"Right," Daren said. He frowned sideways at Cole. "You're soaked."

"The rain."

"No shit the rain," Daren said. "How long were you out there?"

'Too long and then not long enough.' 

Cole adjusted his seatbelt where it was applying cruel pressure to his bladder. He curled his hand in an iron grip around the car's door handle. "Awhile," he snapped when Daren kept staring at him.

"How long's awhile?"

"I don't know. My cell phone broke. Awhile."

"Hell," Daren mumbled. "That sucks. Even for you."

Daren didn't know the half of it and hell if Cole was going to tell him. Daren took great pleasure in torturing him at school and any other time they happened to run into each other in the too small town they lived in. The last thing Cole was going to do was admit to a weakness, or some urgent need, in front of him.

He'd hold it, he wouldn't ask Daren to stop, and he'd piss when he got home. That was the end of it.

But shivers were wracking Cole's body as his soaked jeans dried. His hands shook. His bladder quivered. Daren's eyes were hot on his face.

"You freezing?"

Cole shrugged.

Daren made an annoyed noise. "He's always so fucking impassive. Of course he's cold."

Great. Daren was talking to himself now. Cole was stuck in the car with his insane enemy, he was actually freezing, and oh fuck, he had to piss so, so bad. 

Cole flinched when Daren reached out but the other's hand only grasped the knob for the heater between their two seats and turned it on.

The heat thawed out Cole's frozen body with agonizing slowness. He began to feel his fingers again and only when they tingled with needles did he realize they'd been numb. As his damp jeans and his damp hair began to dry out and the numbness faded from his limbs the trauma of the motorcycle's crash began to ache anew, burning in his abused muscles. The crash had been jarring, though he hadn't thought he was injured, but now his body was alive and painful, all feeling magnified after being numb for so long.

Cole jiggled his leg up and down, tapping his foot in an effort to distract himself from the need to pee. It wasn't helping. If anything the tiny squirming motions he couldn't stop himself from making were increasing the desperate signals from his bladder. He swore he could feel the liquid contained in his bladder sloshing with the movements of the car, sending a frantic flash of desperation through his body every time it crashed in a wave against his tightly squeezed muscles. 

They drove unbearably slowly.

"How far are you?" Daren asked, tilting his head to the road. It was an old road, a single lane and full of pot holes and divots only made worse from the rain. The jerking and jarring of the car was excruciating.

Cole suppressed a groan thinking about how long he'd have to stand it. "Rivermont."

"That far?" Daren asked. "What were you doing all the hell the way out here?"

Cole gritted his teeth. "Driving."

"No shit? Or do you mean crashing?" Daren looked amused with himself.

They were far away from Cole's house, nearing half an hour in the bad weather. Half an hour until he could piss. His stomach tightened and his breath came in short, panicked gasps at the thought of it. It was so long, and he felt dangerously close to pissing himself already.

But then Daren spoke again. "Dangerous trip. With the rain and the dark, and those roads up the mountains."

Cole grasped for the opportunity of quick relief even if it meant spending the night freezing outside. "Drop me off at a gas station."

"You really are crazy," Daren said, shaking his head. "Drop you off at a gas station my ass. You'll turn to ice." 

Cole didn't care. All he cared about was the bathroom there was sure to be at a gas station. He didn't care about the rain, the cold, the dark, any of it. He just wanted away from Daren and to be allowed to piss.

"My place is closer," Daren said, looking Cole up and down. "We'll stop there. Get you a change of clothes, and you can shower. Then we'll see if it's safe to drive up to Rivermont. Maybe. Otherwise you're sleeping on my floor."

Cole shifted his weight restlessly. "How long?"

"Fifteen minute, I guess."

It was better than half an hour and the possibility of getting stuck in the mud on the way up to Cole's house, stranded again and having to piss ten times worse and stuck with Daren this time. But the sheer urgency shivering through his whole body and swirling in his stomach told him it wasn't nearly fast enough. Cole hissed, scissoring his legs abruptly.

"Make it ten."

Daren sent him a curious look but then he grinned and slammed his foot on the gas, eager to show off his driving skills as a teenage male. Cole bit his tongue against a gasp at the jerk of the car. Momentum sent him forward, the seatbelt locking in right over the rock hard shape of his bladder.

'Ten minutes,' he repeated to himself. 'Ten more minutes. Wait.'

Cole tried to count down the seconds in his head but quickly became frustrated. He had to piss so badly he couldn't think of anything else. He twisted his legs together, shifted his weight just slightly back and forth, praying Daren wouldn't notice. 

Daren didn't, but the squirming and twisting were doing very little to qualm Cole's need, either. All the coffee, water, and soda he'd drank throughout the day and all the time he'd been holding it was catching up with him in fast forward. His bladder was painfully swollen and so distended in his abdomen that the thought that some shifting or squeezing could hold off the flood was ridiculous. 

The more Cole squirmed the more panicked he became when it did nothing to hold off the frantic throbbing from his bladder. His squirming escalated quickly, forgetting Daren was there at all as he grinded his thighs together, shifting his hips and widening his legs to scissor them before snapping his thighs together again against a wave of desperation, suppressing a groan.

"Shiiit," Cole hissed

"What's wrong?"

Cole squeezed his hand over his thigh, sweat collecting on his forehead. His voice rasped when he spoke. "Nothing. Leave me alone."

"Whatever, man. A guy tries to do a nice thing and what does he get."

"Just shut up," Cole said. It sounded more like a plea than an insult. "Shut up."

Remarkably, Daren shut up.

Cole suppressed wracking shivers, holding his legs twisted together and his fists clenched in his lap. Nothing was helping the constant growing need. He needed to piss. He needed to piss so bad.

To make matters worse it quickly became apparent that the silence in the car wasn't going to help things. All Cole had to concentrate on was the sound of the rain and the sheer need to release the piss slashing inside him. He wished desperately for Daren to say something again, to distract him somehow, but he wasn't going to ask for that.

And he wasn't going to ask Daren to pull over. Even if he was starting to feel like all Daren's taunting in the world couldn't be worse than holding back the piss for another second.

The rain beat down and the car jerked on the slippery road. Cole gasped in a breath as his bladder quivered and sent urgent, needy signals on red alert. "Uhn--!"

Red warning lights were flashing behind Cole's eyes. Except it wasn't just in his head. Daren cursed, the car slowing down to a crawl and then stopping, the last thing that Cole needed.

A police car pulled up behind them.

"No, no, not now," Cole moaned under his breath, hand white where it was clenched around the door handle. The car had stopped. Every single one of his body's basic instincts were urging him to jump out of the stopped car, rush to the bushes on the side of the road, and let it all go. 

The uniformed police woman approached them through the rushing rain. Cole's stomach clenched painfully at the sudden cold as Daren rolled down his window, the sound of running water agonizingly loud. It filled his head in electric, white hot desperation.

"Sir, do you know how fast you were going?"

Not fast enough. Not nearly fast enough for Cole and the constant throbbing of his bladder that was crying now, now, now!

"I wasn't even over the speed limit," Daren was saying.

The officer looked straight at him. "Speed limits," she said, emphasizing the word, "are for optimal driving conditions. You think this is optimal, sir?"

Daren looked baffled. "Er...well. Not exactly..."

"License and registration." The officer showed no mercy, though Cole was begging her silently. 'Hurry, hurry, just hurry up.'

When Daren reached over Cole's lap for the glove compartment Cole's whole body tensed on instinct, muscles tightening around his bladder and putting undue pressure on it.

"Can't believe this," Daren grumbled under his breath.

Internally Cole was thinking the same thing. 

He was in a panic. He could only hold it ten minutes, and then he had to run for the bathroom, or just go to a tree and let go all over it, his piss flowing with the rain. He was only prepared for those ten minutes but now the car had stopped and there was nowhere to go and hell knew how long they'd have to sit here.

The wait stretched out before him endless and Cole's bladder clenched in a wave of sheer urgency, threatening to overflow right then and there.

He couldn't--he couldn't hold it that long. Oh, fuck--

"I have to piss," Cole said suddenly, his voice hoarse and panicked.

Daren paused for a second, looking between Cole and the officer, then brightened up. "Yeah! Yeah, my friend needs a leak. Like really badly. I was just trying to get to a rest stop fast, you know?"

Even in his misery Cole didn't miss that. My friend. Bullshit.

Daren patted him on the shoulder in a false show of sympathy. The officer was looking at him, but Cole couldn't concentrate on anything except the abject humiliation and, overpowering that with its force, the intense need to pee. He covered his eyes with his gloved hand and squirmed his hips back and forth, not truly hearing what anyone was saying until the car took off again and Daren let out a joyful 'Woop!' and slapped him on the shoulder.

"Man," Daren said. "That was brilliant. Never would have thought that would work."

Cole was tense, clenching his teeth so tight he thought they might crack. Daren was driving again but not towards the off ramp or the bathroom. He was right back in the fast lane.

"I have to piss!" Cole snapped, glaring at him sideways.

Daren looked surprised. "What, really? I thought--"

"Now!"

The sudden spasm of his bladder where Cole had felt close to leaking had passed with the car's picking up speed again, leaving the flashing police lights behind. But in its place it had left a new urgency. Ten minutes was now a total impossibility. Any illusions Cole had of holding it were gone in a flash. He needed to piss and he needed to piss now.

But Daren wasn't stopping. Cole hissed as they passed an off ramp. Hadn't Daren heard him? Couldn't he tell it was a goddamn emergency?

The pause stretched onward and Cole fought with all his might not to grab his crotch and squeeze himself, throwing away his last scrap of dignity. Even that grew increasingly hard to avoid as the rain pattered, the car bumped over a pothole, and Daren remained silent. 

"You're real bossy, you know that?" Daren said finally. "What, you want me to stop? I'm the one driving. I'll damn well decide when I stop."

Cole gritted his teeth. "Then decide to stop already."

Daren snorted a laugh. "See? Bossy. He doesn't even say please."

"Daren--"

But Daren liked his idea and he was smirking self-satisfactorily. "Say please."

"No," Cole snapped coldly. 

"Then I guess we're not stopping."

Cole squeezed his eyes shut. "Asshole."

"Not the word I was looking for," Daren said cheerily.

Please. The word echoed in Cole's head and it made him shudder from something other than desperation this time. Cole was miserable and cold and his bladder was so full it was painful for fuck's sake, but he was not going to say please. Not to Daren, not in this lifetime.

"No?" Daren said when Cole remained silent. "Guess I won't stop, then."

"I will piss in your car," Cole hissed, less a threat than an inevitability. He didn't want to wet himself in Daren's car, the thought itself made him shudder, but it was becoming a very real possibility. "If I can't go to the bathroom I will piss in your fucking car, Daren."

Daren had the audacity to laugh. "No, you won't. I'll tell everyone at school if you do, hot shot."

And there was the Daren that Cole knew. Not the one that would stop to help someone stranded on the side of the road, or offer to let Cole stay in his home for the night. This was the Daren that hated Cole with a dedication that would have been commendable in any other situation but only served to frustrate Cole constantly.

He couldn't piss in the car and he couldn't get out of the car--which meant Cole couldn't piss. Except his bladder was throbbing urgently and he couldn't not, either.

The discrepancy shot a shock of fear that pressed like a stone in his stomach, more than Cole's bladder could stand at this point. A desperate jet of piss threatened to push past his clenched sphincter. 

Gasping, Cole went to shove his hand in his pocket to he could hold himself and stop the leak, but the thick leather glove got in the way. Gyrating his hips to hold it back just a second longer, Cole peeled his glove off and tossed it aside. He jammed his hand into his pocket--but it wouldn't fit, his jeans shrunken from rain.

Helpless against it, his clenching and squirming failed and a quick burst of piss wet his boxers.

Cole lost it. He grabbed his crotch obviously from the outside, no longer caring whether Daren saw. His bladder convulsed at the tease of the wet spot on his boxers, threatening another. He grappled and squeezed himself though his jeans like he'd been dying to through hours of holding, clenching himself in an iron grip he hoped in vain would sustain him the rest of the drive. 

'How much longer--? Fuck fuck fuck...'

Daren's eyes were hot on Cole's hand in his lap. His gaze lingered too long before he started making fun of Cole again. "That's not polite, you know. Touchin' yourself in public. Someone should teach you some manners, sweetheart."

Cole groaned, sick of Daren's games. "I fucking told you, I have to pee."

"Yeah, well." Daren shrugged uncaringly. "I guess you don't, since you haven't asked me to pull over."

Cole clenched his jaw. "Pull over!"

"Naw, that's not how you ask. Manners, manners," Daren beamed at him. "So you must not have to piss so bad after all. But hey, we'll be to my place soon. Twenty minutes or so."

Cole shivered, releasing a thready "Tw-wenty?"

It was impossible not to show his desperation now, as much as he tried to fight it and as much as he didn't want to give Daren the satisfaction. The pressure in his bladder required he move, jerking his hips up to push into the much needed pressure of his palm and then bending forward with a groan at the thought of twenty more minutes of holding it.

"Yeah twenty," Daren said calmly. "Gotta drive under the speed limit now, remember? Don't want to piss off any more cops." Daren laughed. "Piss off," he repeated. "This is great. Today is hilarious."

Today was the worst day of Cole's life.

Trapped in a car with Daren was the last place Cole wanted to be, now or ever. He was pained, aching and cold and fucking trembling he had to piss so bad. Daren's amusement only made it so much worse. All the time the blonde was making watery rushing noises at Cole like the rain outside wasn't enough to fill Cole's head.

"Definitely don't think about pissing," Daren was saying. "Waterfalls, streams, rivers. Rain." Daren laughed. "Absolutely not rain, right? Just don't think about it, I'm sure you'll be okay." 

Cole couldn't not think about all that liquid. It was contained in his stretched bladder, bursting to get out. Seconds ticked by like minutes, minutes like hours, and with each passing moment the liquid sloshing in his bladder felt closer and closer to rushing out in a flood. "Daren--"

"Rushing rushing waterfalls," Daren sang, a cheerful, malicious child.

Cole clutched himself and bent forward. The stupid, childish taunt was the last blow to his rock hard bladder. As hard as he squeezed himself it only served to wet his fingertips as a stream escaped through his hold. It wet the front of his boxers and this time it soaked through the denim of his fly, forming a wet spot under his hand. 

Cole was pissing, right then, and stopping the flood was monumentally difficult. It was all he could do with his fraying control to stop the thin stream and hold the rest in. A rivulet of piss rolled down his thigh, making Cole bounce his leg frantically.

"Daren," he gasped the other boy's name and it sounded far too much like the tone of a begging 'please.' But he wouldn't say it. He couldn't. He'd burst his bladder holding it before he begged Daren for anything. Still, he tried desperately for understanding. "I-I can't..."

But Cole never finished the plea. He gritted his teeth against pathetic, frantic begging. Holding it all in was torture, but Daren wouldn't care. It was all Cole could hope for that if somehow, impossibly, he was able to hold it without bursting his bladder until they stopped at Daren's house, that Daren wouldn't try to stop him from pissing a lake on the driveway the second he escaped the car. 

Oh, fuck, the thought of letting go--

Cole writhed at the spasm from his bladder, his hips bucked forward against the constraint of the seatbelt and his spine arched. He threw his head back and moaned, hand grappling in his crotch.

Daren must have found it amusing because he laughed shortly and said, "The hell are you doing? Never show your belly to a predator, sweetheart."

And, to Cole's dismay, Daren hit him with a fist to the stomach.

Cole jerked and cried out as Daren's fist caught the rock hard shape of his bladder as the blonde laughed. The punch, even if it hadn't been especially hard or malicious, slammed like a ton of bricks directly on top of Cole's bladder. The full, rounded curve of his lower stomach slammed inwards with the weight of Daren's fist, threatening to pop like a water balloon with an anvil dropped on top of it. 

"Uhhhh!" Cole cried involuntarily as he doubled over. His straining bladder was close to splitting open, the pressure of Daren's fist a knife through his body. The punch forced the liquid stretching Cole's bladder to move. It surged downward against his clenched muscles. A thin warm stream forced its way out through his peehole, wetting the already damp material of his jeans.

Cole contained the next leak but it was agonizing. Wildly he thought of releasing some more piss in his jeans just to relieve the pressure, but he knew if he allowed himself to pee even for a second he wouldn't be able to stop it. He'd completely wet himself if he gave his body permission for any relief at all. So Cole held it all in, pale and moaning. 

"Cole?" Daren was saying, his voice sounding a shade different than Cole had ever heard it. "Fuck, Cole. I swear I didn't hit you that hard. You said you weren't hurt. Are you hurt?"

"I have to piss!" Cole yelled, his voice loud and wild. 

Daren looked aggravatingly concerned as Cole twisted himself up around the inevitable flood that threatened to gush out in a waterfall in the next moment. 

"Right, I know. You keep saying." Daren didn't slow down. "But you're not hurt, right?"

"It hurts!" Cole gasped. Another stream of piss gushed into his jeans despite his fighting it. It took him three seconds of overwhelming relief and complete horror to stop it.

"What hurts?" Daren asked, sounding confused. "You're hurt?"

His bladder hurt, abused and engorged, throbbing in red flashes of pain and urgency.

In his desperation Cole fumbled with his seatbelt as the car whizzed down the slick road. His hands trembled and flopped uselessly around the metal buckle. Cole let out a guttural groan of frustration and finally managed to release the belt. He grappled for the door handle. 

"I can't hold it anymore. Stop! Stop the fucking car now."

The car slowed, Daren looked unsure--but then it changed. They sped forward. They didn't stop. The brush and trees and relief that Cole yearned for just outside the car kept passing them by.

"You're supposed to ask nicely," Daren said, as if reminding himself. "That's the game. And that wasn't nicely."

There was no room for nice. Cole was out of control. His bladder convulsed and his clamped hold failed to stop another jet of urine. The leaks were becoming more frequent and longer each time, increasingly difficult to stop. 

The torrent lasted five seconds before Cole could regain control, and the feeling of relief cut off so abruptly was too much. He let go again, involuntarily, another stream releasing into his jeans and increasing in flow just before he managed to stop it.

Groaning, Cole threw his weight forward, free of the seatbelt and doubled over with both hands gripping his encased crotch. He pressed down with all his weight, trying to hold it in. 

The desperate cramped huddle only served to compress his bursting bladder. He couldn't stop the next wave. As Cole twisted and curled over he began to piss, spraying with a frightening force.

Daren made an indecipherable noise. "Are you--?"

"Please!" Cole cried, his resolve lost as he lost control of his bladder. "Please! Fuck, please! Pleasepleaseplease--"

The word was the only one Cole knew and far too late. He gasped it in an endless plea, begging Daren and his own body, but it couldn't stop the torrent that gushed from his bladder. It soaked a dark patch from crotch to knee as Cole clutched his fly uselessly.

He jerked his hips from side to side, still trying to stem the flood, squeezing his hand over his crotch and soaking his glove, but he couldn't stop. Pee hissed through his jeans, trickling in golden rivulets as it leaked through the thick denim and onto the car's leather upholstery, puddling in the divots of the chair. 

Cole writhed a last time and threw his head back with a moan, falling into the leather chair. Finally he gave in. The already gushing flow of piss increased tenfold as Cole stopped trying to hold it back. He pissed like he'd been dying to for hours, his body rejecting every drop of liquid he'd held in a pressured rush.

The feeling was far beyond relief. Cole could think of nothing but the blissful, heated feeling as he closed his eyes, mouth open, panting. His bladder, the rock hard bulge in his abdomen, began to contract to its normal size, the constant frantic desperation fading into a blissful nothingness. 

When the pressure and the stream finally eased and Cole was gasping for breath, still dribbling into his jeans, he heard it.

Daren was laughing.

"Holy shit. That was spectacular."

If Cole weren't weak with relief he would have punched him.

They were still driving, the car continuing at the same speed. They were one lane out of the fast lane now like Daren had considering pulling over for Cole before he'd decided not to bother.

"Fuck you," Cole managed, his voice small and breathy. His body had deflated with his bladder, tension going with strength, leaving him panting and helpless against the soaked leather and Daren's scorn.

"Hey, man, you're the one who pissed in my car."

"Fuck you!" Cole cried, swinging a clenched fist to punch the window weakly. "I told you to stop! I told you to fucking stop. I told you I couldn't--couldn't--I just fucking couldn't anymore. I--"

"Completely soaked yourself and my car," Daren filled in for him. Helpful asshole.

Cole bent forward, breathing hard and covering his face with his hands. His fingers were damp with piss from trying to hold it back and he was drenched from crotch to ankle, dark denim of his jeans saturated. Of course, Daren was right.

Cole squeezed his eyes shut against the reality of it. "Do you hate me that much?"

"No."

The answer was far too quick and not at all what Cole would have expected. 

"Sorry," Daren said, looking sheepish. Cole had never heard Daren say 'sorry' before, but then Daren had probably never heard him say 'please,' either. "I kinda thought that it was funny. Well, not funny, but interesting, you fidgeting and getting all bothered. You never really act... human. And having to pee is pretty basic human."

"I'm human," Cole protested, the weakness in his voice frustrating him. He leaned with his head back against the headrest in exhaustion, eyes fluttering closed.

Daren cleared his throat. "Guess you are after all. I didn't really mean for... I didn't know how bad it was. I figured I'd stop when I got tired of watching you squirm around. Didn't happen." Daren eyed him up and down in one smooth motion. "Guess I should have stopped."

Cole's body trembled beyond his control in morbid humor, sweet relief, the cold of the rain and the dampness of his soaked jeans. His legs gave occasional spasms, his empty bladder convulsed and tried to release more. As much as he tried to control himself his body was beyond his messages now and he shivered, teeth chattering.

Daren turned the heater on full blast. It warmed Cole from the outside in, hot and flushed against his skin, drying the soaked cold of his jeans and the sweat on his neck. He blinked his eyes open, looking at Daren.

"So," Daren said, thumping him on the shoulder. "Offer of a shower and a change of clothes is still open."


End file.
